Messy Ever After

The first time Hunter Hadded saw Sloane Sterling, she flipped him off through her apartment window.

To be fair, he had been staring.

But that wasn’t the point.

Then she pulled the curtain halfway closed.

Hunter leaned against the frame of his own open window, a cup of coffee in one hand, watching the chaos unfold across the narrow alley between their buildings. A moving truck was parked outside the brick complex opposite his apartment, and boxes were being hauled inside by two guys who clearly regretted volunteering for the job.

And then there was her.

Black jeans ripped at the knees. Combat boots. A messy ponytail that looked like it had been tied together with pure defiance. She moved with the kind of confidence that made people look twice—quick, sharp, like she knew exactly where she belonged in the world and didn’t care if anyone agreed.

Hunter took another sip of coffee.

Interesting.

She turned suddenly, pushing the door open with her hip as she carried a box inside. When she straightened again, her gaze lifted—and landed directly on him.

Their eyes met.

Hunter didn’t look away.

Why would he?

She stared back at him for a second, expression flat. Then her eyes narrowed slightly, like she was deciding something.

Hunter lifted his coffee in a lazy salute.

Her response was immediate.

She raised her hand and flipped him off.

Hunter nearly choked on his drink.

“Well,” he muttered to himself, lowering the cup. “That’s promising.”

Across the alley, the girl disappeared inside her apartment without another glance.

Hunter stayed at the window.

Because now he was curious.

And Hunter Hadded had always had a problem with curiosity.

The girl didn’t reappear for nearly twenty minutes.

Hunter had just started to convince himself she’d closed the blinds to escape the weird guy across the alley when the window slid open again.

She stepped out onto a narrow fire-escape balcony with another box in her arms.

Hunter watched quietly as she set the box down and brushed a loose strand of dark hair away from her face.

Then she looked up.

And there he was.

Still watching.

Her expression turned unimpressed.

“Do you mind?” she called across the alley.

Hunter raised an eyebrow.

“Mind what?”

“You staring.”

“I’m not staring.”

“You absolutely are.”

“Technically,” Hunter said calmly, leaning his shoulder against the window frame, “I’m observing.”

She stared at him.

Hunter smiled.

“Different thing.”

She crossed her arms. “You’re weird.”

“That hurts,” he said.

“Does it?”

“Not really.”

For a moment neither of them said anything. The alley between the buildings wasn’t wide—maybe fifteen feet at most—so their voices carried easily across the space.

Finally she sighed.

“You live there?”

Hunter glanced behind him into his apartment like he might discover he’d accidentally wandered into someone else’s place.

“Yeah.”

She nodded slowly, like she was committing that information to memory.

“Great.”

“Great?” Hunter repeated.

“Now I know where the neighborhood creep lives.”

Hunter laughed under his breath.

This girl had nerve.

“I could say the same thing about the girl who flips strangers off before noon.”

“Maybe don’t stare at strangers through their windows then.”

“Maybe don’t move into apartments with front-row seats.”

She squinted at him like she was deciding whether he was worth the effort of another insult.

Hunter waited patiently.

Eventually she just shook her head.

“Unbelievable.”

She picked up the box again and disappeared inside.

Hunter watched the empty window for a few seconds.

Then he smiled.

Something told him life had just gotten a lot more interesting.

It didn’t take long to confirm that theory.

Hunter discovered three things about Sloane Sterling within the first twenty-four hours.

First—she had absolutely no problem walking around her apartment with the curtains open.

Second—she played music loud enough that he could hear the bass through the alley when his windows were open.

And third—

She noticed when he was watching.

The realization came the next morning.

Hunter stepped out onto his small balcony with a cup of coffee, stretching his arms over his head as the early sunlight warmed the brick walls around him.

Across the alley, Sloane’s window was open.

She stood in front of a mirror brushing her hair.

Hunter leaned against the railing.

He told himself he wasn’t staring.

He was simply appreciating the view.

After a moment she paused.

Slowly, deliberately, she lifted her eyes to the mirror.

And met his gaze through the reflection.

Hunter froze mid-sip.

Sloane didn’t look surprised.

In fact, she looked almost… amused.

She turned around slowly, brushing her hair over one shoulder.

Then she grabbed something from the table beside her.

Hunter watched curiously.

A second later she held it up to the glass.

A sticky note.

Written in thick black marker.

STOP STARING.

Hunter smirked.

He stepped back inside his apartment, grabbed a marker from his desk, and returned to the balcony.

Sloane watched with narrowed eyes.

Hunter wrote three words on his own window.

Then held the paper up.

MAKE ME.

Sloane stared at the note.

Then at him.

Then she did something Hunter didn’t expect.

She smiled.

It wasn’t sweet.

It wasn’t friendly.

It was the kind of smile that suggested bad decisions were about to happen.

She grabbed another sticky note.

Hunter leaned closer.

When she pressed it against the glass, he could read the words instantly.

YOU’RE AN IDIOT.

Hunter laughed.

“Probably,” he called across the alley.

She leaned against the window frame.

“Definitely.”

“Yet here you are talking to me.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Could always close the curtains.”

Sloane tilted her head.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Hunter felt something shift in his chest.

Ah.

So she liked games.

Good.

Hunter Hadded loved games.

Later that afternoon, Hunter ran into her outside the building for the first time.

She was sitting on the concrete steps with her phone in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

Hunter stopped a few feet away.

“Sloane Sterling.”

She looked up.

“Hunter Hadded.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You know my name already?”

“You left a package outside your door.”

“And you read it.”

She shrugged.

“You were staring into my apartment yesterday.”

“Fair.”

Hunter sat down on the step beside her.

She eyed him suspiciously.

Hunter sat down on the step beside her.

Sloane looked at him sideways.

“You always invite yourself into other people’s space like this?”

“Only when they flip me off through their window first.”

She let out a quiet laugh, though she tried to hide it behind the cigarette.

“Good luck surviving this neighborhood then.”

Hunter leaned back on his hands, stretching his legs out.

“You always this friendly with your neighbors?”

“Only the creepy ones.”

Hunter glanced at the cigarette between her fingers.

“Thought college kids were vaping now.”

“Thought guys were supposed to mind their business.”

He smirked.

“You’re fun.”

“You’re annoying.”

“Yet here we are.”

Sloane exhaled a slow stream of smoke, watching it disappear into the afternoon air.

For a moment neither of them spoke.

Cars passed down the street. Someone laughed in the distance. The city buzzed around them like usual—but Hunter found himself focused on the girl beside him.

Sloane Sterling didn’t seem like the type to sit quietly with anyone.

Yet she hadn’t told him to leave.

Hunter tilted his head slightly.

“So what’s your story?”

She raised an eyebrow.

“You always interrogate strangers?”

“Only the interesting ones.”

“That’s a terrible line.”

“Still worked.”

Sloane shook her head, flicking ash onto the pavement.

“I just moved here. That’s the whole story.”

“No boyfriend waiting to visit on weekends?” Hunter asked casually.

Her eyes slid toward him.

“No.”

“Girlfriend?”

She snorted.

“Also no.”

Hunter nodded thoughtfully.

“Good to know.”

“Why?”

He shrugged.

“Just curious.”

Sloane studied him for a second, like she was trying to figure out whether he was serious or just messing with her.

Probably both.

“You?” she asked finally.

Hunter stretched his arms behind his head.

“What about me?”

“Girlfriend.”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

Hunter thought about it.

Then he shrugged.

“Too much work.”

Sloane laughed softly at that.

“Fair.”

She crushed the cigarette beneath her boot and stood up.

Hunter watched her carefully.

“You heading in already?”

“Yeah.”

She started toward the door, then stopped halfway up the steps.

“Hunter?”

He looked up.

“Yeah?”

Sloane nodded toward the building across the alley.

“You better stop staring through my window.”

Hunter grinned slowly.

“No promises.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was the faintest hint of a smile on her lips as she turned away.

Hunter stayed on the step a little longer, staring up at the windows above.

A minute later, the one across the alley slid open.

Sloane stepped out onto her fire escape again.

She looked down at him.

Hunter lifted his hand in a small wave.

Sloane shook her head like she couldn’t believe him.

Then she disappeared inside.

Hunter chuckled to himself as he stood up.

Something about this girl felt like trouble.

The fun kind.

The kind that didn’t come with rules or plans or promises.

Just chaos.

Across the alley, the lights in Sloane’s apartment flicked on as evening started creeping in.

Hunter leaned against the railing of his balcony again, glancing toward her window.

A second later she appeared.

Their eyes met.

Neither of them looked away.

And Hunter had the strange feeling that whatever this thing was between them—

It had already started.

Neither of them had just admitted it yet.